Mine
by Jinxgirl
Summary: What if Legs had knocked on Faith's door, and Diana Dormer took her in to raise along with Faith? AU, crossover with Foxfire, alternate to Watch My Back series. Diana's pov.
1. Chapter 1

Mine

Disclaimer: Faith is Joss Whedon's, Diana Dormer is….sort of mine but sort of not…and Legs/Sheena/Margaret is Joyce Carol Oates, none are mine.

Author notes: This is an AU take of my Watch My Back series; a reviewer asked me to write a story from an alternate universe in which Diana takes Legs in and gives her a happy ending along with Faith. The idea didn't leave my mind so here is the result. Sheena is Legs, by the way.

I had the distinct feeling before I opened the door to the training room that the girls were not diligently engaging in anything one could remotely describe as training, as they had professed to be intending after they had left their studies for the day. Somehow the loud, frequent bursts of laughter I was hearing did not strike me as likely to be associated with intense weight lifting or cardio activities, nor did the occasional shrieked swear word.

No, the girls were playing- and hopefully fully clothed this time, because the last time around when this had not been the case had been as uncomfortable for them as for me, if not more so, and I had hoped they had learned from it. Adolescents and hormones, however, and particularly in adolescents as active as these particular girls, often interfere with logic, and I made sure to knock loudly before opening the door.

The girls were sprawled out on the mats of the training room floor, flushed, breathless, laughing, eyes glowing with pleasure and adrenaline. Faith was straddling Sheena, pinning the older and taller, though more slightly built, girl down with her knees and her hands on Sheena's arms, and Sheena was twisting against her, trying to buck her off and having little success against Faith's Slayer strength. Faith's dark hair was coming loose from her ponytail, hanging in her face, and Sheena's hair, longer, darker, and straighter than Faith's, was loose and tangled all over the mat, her face, chest, and Faith's arms as she yelled to me half indignantly, half laughing from where I stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, trying to suppress a smile.

"She cheats, Diana! She's such a cheater, how the hell am I supposed to get her off?"

"Language, Sheena," I reminded her, then continued, looking between the two, "I must say that this does not look like the two of you were training very hard to me, now, does it?"

"We were sparring, Di," Faith grinned, looking entirely too pleased with herself from where she sat perched on Sheena's torso, still pinning her down, though it appeared she had loosened her grip on her.

She was fifteen and a half to Sheena's just-turned-seventeen, and still quite impressed with her newfound calling as one of the Chosen Two, the Slayers, to the point that she often required a firm hand and level head holding her back, for she now at times seemed to think herself nearly invincible. And she was certainly not yet fully in control of her new strength.

"And you are not to do that without my supervision, yes, Faith, Sheena? You could badly injure her without intending to, Faith, you know this. Now please let her go, and the two of you begin your warm-up routine- not that I think it truly necessary, as you both look very warm indeed," I said dryly, allowing a visible smile, and the girls snickered before Faith rolled off of Sheena, extending a hand to help her up.

As Faith walked over to the far corner of the mats, beginning to stretch alone, Sheena lingered near me where I had approached them, holding herself with some tension and biting her lip as she cut her eyes at me, her voice more serious now as she spoke hesitantly.

"Diana? Um, sorry about the swearing."

I smiled back at her warmly, hoping her to be assured by the gesture, and slipped an arm around her slim shoulders, squeezing them briefly. It had only been six months since she came to stay, and though Sheena had made considerable progress in all areas a child could improve, she was still in need of validation more frequently than one might expect, still often anxious if she felt that she was displeasing me, and this was a trait in her I did not wish to neglect.

"I accept the apology, Sheena, and I am not fussed. Now go stretch along with Faith, I wish to see your progress in blocking today."

For just a few moments she leaned into my side, seeming as usual reluctant to leave it, though at 17 she was fast leaving childhood to become a young woman, Sheena is still often more physically inclined than Faith in affection, seeming to want and need contact with me in a greater amount, though I am certain it would take literal torture for her to say so.

I rubbed the ball of my thumb briefly over her shoulder, and then she pulled away, joining Faith in her warm-up on the mats. I stood observing them, in their sloppy clothing and disheveled hair, their young faces now serious with their concentration, and smiled. I had never at any point in my life thought I would wish for one child, and certainly not two, and never would I have dreamed I would one day find myself responsible for the care of two teenage former streetwalkers, for certain. But life has a way of doing away with one's expectations, and I cannot imagine now living without either one of them- nor would I have it any other way than it is at present.

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I was not aware of Sheena's existence, and certainly not her prominence in Faith's life, until she showed up on my doorstep. Up until then I had of course been focusing all my energies on Faith, my 15-year-old Slayer and adopted daughter. In the year since I had taken her into my care she had grown exponentially in many aspects of her development, and it was of immense satisfaction for me to watch her do so and know that it was a result of my efforts, at least partially, that were its cause. I felt that I knew Faith well by this point, if not every detail of her past, and that she had finally grown to love and trust me, as I had done so for her.

So one can imagine my shock when, upon answering the doorbell and finding a bedraggled teenage girl standing before me, a child so tall and thin and in such sorry assortment of clothing she rather resembled a dark scarecrow, Faith, who was standing just behind me, did not show my bemusement, but instead went rigid, her eyes widening, face draining of color so I feared she would faint. And my amazement only increased when the child at the door hesitantly spoke Faith's name- and Faith, whom I had seen weeping only once in the entire year of living in my care, burst into tears and flung her arms about the girl's neck.

It took some time to sort out any semblance of logic in what exactly I was witnessing as well as the identity of the girl that Faith was most reluctant to lease hold of. Eventually I was able to urge the two of them to come inside, for the girl to sit at my table, with Faith scooting her chair close to her, frequently gripping her shoulder or leg and still watching her with wide eyes, as if she had not entirely convinced herself that she was real. I gave the girl food and drink, which I did not fail to notice she eagerly partook of with hands that actually shook in anticipation, and tried with patience to sort out what she and a rather shellshocked Faith was able to tell me.

It soon became clear that Legs Sadovsky, as Faith called her and she introduced herself to me as, was a street child as Faith had once been, who had for several months lived with Faith as her only friend and ally. It appeared to me from Faith's obvious emotion upon seeing her again, and the frequency with which she touched her- Faith, who had taken months to grow comfortable with and even enjoy affectionate touch from me- that Legs Sadovsky may have been more to her than merely a friend, and this too was astonishing to me in regards to what I knew of my adoptive daughter.

I had not seen evidence in Faith thus far that she was not fully heterosexual, nor that she was yet capable of engaging in a relationship with meaning and longitivity…and the latter was so encouraging to me that even had the girl not been a child who was clearly in need, I would still have been inclined to encourage her to remain in contact with Faith, if not perhaps actually living with her under the same roof. But as the initial few days of offering for Legs to stay as a guest went by and I began to discover more about her and her situation, it became obvious what I must do- not only for her sake, but for Faith's as well, and my own conscience.

The day that she first came to my door, Sheena, or Legs, as she called herself then, was about as pathetic a figure as one could be while still remaining upright and in one's right mind. She was quite thin, as I mentioned previously, to the point of concern, with clothes that were torn, dirty, and not appropriate to the cold, without a hat or glove on very chapped and reddened hands. Her hair was snarled and tangled badly, her lips as badly chapped as her hands, and she was ill, as Faith had been when she first came to stay with me. She appeared even at a glance to be feverish and to have a terrible cold, perhaps even pneumonia. I could not have lived with myself had I allowed her to leave my home while remaining in such a state, even if she did insist that she was eighteen and therefore capable of caring for herself.

She seemed rather wary about disclosing much about herself, and Faith, as I discussed while speaking with her privately, knew very little herself, not even her true name. But she seemed so very attached to her, and I myself was so concerned for her, that I began to use my connections with the Watcher's Council to ask for the resources needed to look up any records of a Sadovsky aka Legs in existence, even confidential files of minors, which I rather suspected she still was.

I was correct, as it turned out. "Legs" Sadovsky, whose true name was Margaret Ann, was only sixteen years old, and though the details of her file were not nearly as clear and explicit as I would have preferred, it gave me a framework from which to go forward with. At the time I met her she was only sixteen, not eighteen, and therefore very much in need of guardianship. Her file spoke of foster homes and repeated runaways and truancy, mentioning a deceased mother, alcoholic and physically abusive father, and repeated run-ins with the law on Legs's part as a young preteen and teenager. She had been in a juvenile detention center for assault with a weapon and auto theft, at not quite fifteen years old. I could only imagine what trouble she had gotten herself into that was not recorded in her file.

Clearly she was a troubled and troubling girl, one who could be aggressive, reckless, and violent. Clearly she had become so unaccustomed to any form of guidance or caring for by another that she showed antisocial and even nearly feral behaviors. She could undoubtedly influence Faith for the worse at a time when Faith had made such progress and yet was still fragile and easily molded. It could be a disastrous decision to take up responsibility for another child who would require so much of my time, energy, and effort to begin to better her life and behaviors.

But Faith loved her. It was clear to me that Faith loved her fully, with all of her heart, and that was a large part of the decision. And she was a child like Faith, a child in need of a home and care, and I could not have sent her away without first giving her generous opportunity to change and grow, within the safety and provisions I could provide.

She was quite astonished, I could see, when I sat them both down to explain to them my intention of allowing her to stay, and the conditions behind the offer. Legs, as she was still calling herself then, was still very sick and showing signs of it. It seemed to me, as she had herself voiced with irritation and bewilderment, that once she was out of the bitter outdoor conditions, warm and well fed, and given a comfortable bed and appropriate medicine, that she was actually more ill than she had been previously, when fully untreated. It was as if her body had recognized that it was now able to receive the care it needed, and had thus relaxed its defenses and allowed her illness to progress more intensively, as though knowing it would be cared for. She was curled up in several layers of clothing on the couch, wrapped in a blanket as well, and leaning into Faith's side in a manner I already recognized as unusual for her, and though I questioned her as to whether she felt well enough to talk with me then, she had nodded, insisting even through noticeable fatigue that she was.

It was important to her that the discussion was over soon, I could see, so I kept it as short and clear as possible, concerned that she return to resting as was needed. I informed her that I knew her name, age, and some of the details of her past, and that I was more than willing to focus entirely on her future, if she chose to work with me to better it. I told her she could stay in my home indefinitely, and I would act as her guardian without the mess of attempting to obtain legal guardianship or adoption, as I had with Faith. I would provide her with everything she needed- food, shelter, clothing, medical expenses, an education, and guidance for her future. In return, she would follow my rules, which were designed not to hamper her freedom, but rather to keep her safe and well. Although as with Faith, I would expect and be patient of mistakes, I would expect her to be continually and genuinely striving.

I had not been surprised by her shock. She had bolted up and away from Faith, stumbling over her words trying to question me, and ended up sending herself into a coughing fit that caused her to have to struggle for breath, her frame weakened considerably by its force. And I don't think I was ever as certain about the decision as when she looked up at me, shoulders hunched, eyes watery perhaps from coughing, perhaps from a deeper emotion, and asked me hoarsely if I meant it. I did, for in that brief moment something about her tugged at my heart in a way I could not quite explain, and Margaret Sadovsky was mine every bit as much as Faith.

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next thing to be decided, after it was decided that Legs would stay with me and Faith in our home, was what to call her. I could not bring myself to continue to call a child in my care Legs, which was a name befitting of the street child streetwalker she had been. When I informed her of this, however, she expressed such distaste with her given name, Margaret, that we were forced to come up with an alternative.

"Choose a name that will not make either one of us cringe to hear it," I told her. "Preferably one that is a diminutive of one of your given names. Ann, Annie, Anna, Maggie, Meg, Peggy- surely you can find a name that suits you better than Margaret Ann, and certainly more so than Legs."

What she came up with, though it was not in accordance with my suggestion, ended up telling me more about her than she likely realized, and suited her infinitely better for it.

"My…my mother used to call me Sheena," she said hesitantly, her eyes meeting mine, and I did not fail to notice the tension of her shoulders as she spoke or the manner in which she worried her cuticles with her thumb. "That's not my name or anything…it was just something she called me. Like the comics…Sheena, Queen of the Jungle? Some of my friends called me that too, sometimes. I kind of liked it."

She had never spoken before of her mother, or given any indication that she thought of her. She had been barely more than a toddler when she died, and I had been unsure as to whether she remembered the woman at all, let alone any pet names she may have given her. Needless to say, Sheena she became, and I think the change in name alone, though it was difficult for Faith to adjust to, was the first step forward in changing the girl.

There was so much Sheena needed done for her, just as with Faith when she first came. Her health was the first and most important thing to be addressed, of course, and there was much to be done in that respect alone. She needed to be taken to the dentist and the doctor, given treatment for her illness and set on a steady nutritional diet, for she was rather undernourished for her height. She needed a steady schedule of sleep, and I was concerned as well with her sexual health, or lack thereof, for if the younger Faith had had her share of exploitation in this regard, I had little doubt that Sheena had as well.

This was soundly confirmed on the day that I took Sheena to the gynecologist in order to have her tested for sexually transmitted diseases and to have her overall reproductive health verified. Even before she entered the building, she was clearly nervous. I had explained to her why I was taking her to the gynecologist and what they would do there, and assured her I would be with her in the room if she wished me to be. I had decided to leave Faith at home for this particular expedition, as I knew her discomfort with the setting and did not wish to upset her unnecessarily as well should she choose to accompany Sheena.

Repeatedly, Sheena had attempted to convince me that she was perfectly healthy and had no need to be examined in such a manner, insisting that "if there was something wrong, she would know it, wouldn't she, better than some doctor?"

"There are not always obvious signs," I explained to her repeatedly, "and if all is well, then you will have one day of discomfort and then you can forget about the experience. I understand if you are frightened or nervous, but I can go in with you and be there the whole-"

"I am NOT," she insisted, even as her expression made it quite clear that she was not being truthful. "I just think it's a total waste of time, is all. And I don't care if you come in or not, it doesn't matter to me. It's just that you're wasting money and time."

But in the waiting room she simply could not seem to stay in her seat, frequently jumping up and pacing the floor in restless agitation. When her name was called, she tried again to persuade me that the exam was unneeded, desperation brightening her eyes, and I had to take her arm and physically guide her into the room.

And then it only deteriorated further from that point onward. For the moment that Sheena was asked to undress, she froze. I thought at first that she was simply nervous and stalling, perhaps showing defiance by refusing to comply, but it soon became clear that this was not the case when she would not respond to even my request to listen to the doctor. It was not that Sheena would not obey- it appeared that she truly could not bring herself to make the necessary movements to do so.

The doctor was kind and spoke with her in depth about what she would do and why, and how much pain was to be expected, if any. It was nearly fifteen minutes before Sheena could bring herself to sit on the table and remove her pants and underwear, even under the cover of the plastic paper. There was no longer any attempt to show bravado in her features, for her face was taut with fear, pale, and even under the sheet I could tell she was trembling. It was very difficult not to feel rage then towards those in her life who had overlooked her, who had not seen her for the very young girl she was and reacted in accordance to the fact, and I had to maintain very strict control of my thoughts and emotions as I came to stand beside her, taking her hand.

I had been through this once before with Faith and despised every moment of observing the torment it was to her, but the experience with Faith from the year before in no way prepared me for Sheena. For the moment the doctor first touched her, Sheena did not even attempt to tolerate it.

Sheena yelled, a sound bred of raw panic and fear, then bolted from the table, nearly kicking the poor doctor in the face in her haste. I truly believe she would have run half undressed out the door and building had I not managed to catch her arm, pulling her back towards me. For a few moments she appeared almost ready to incite violence against me, but then she stopped herself, fist in mid air, looking up at me with eyes that were very wide as she took in deep, shuddering breaths, then backed away from me into a corner, snatching up her pants and covering herself as she went, her entire body tense.

It was a terrible thing to observe, and I did not even want to consider the number of possible reasons she would react in such an extreme manner. It would do little good to either of us to speculate the reason behind the wild intensity of emotion in her gaze then, and I did not think it wise to question her or do anything beyond calm her. I merely stepped towards her, speaking softly.

"Sheena…Sheena, sweetheart, you are safe here. This is a safe place….I would not let anyone touch you who was not trying to help you. It's all right, child, you are safe…you are safe."

She allowed me to approach her even as a muscle worked in her jaw, and she swallowed repeatedly, giving no verbal response, just watching me closely. Eventually as I drew near enough to do so, she let me kneel in front of her, then reach out to stroke her cheek.

No sooner had I touched her then she let out a long, shuddery sigh, and I felt the wetness of her tears spill over her cheek, smearing across the tip of my fingers. It was the first time I had witnessed her cry, and she did so then in oddly controlled silence, speaking no words and making no sounds. It was entirely heartbreaking to see.

Sheena continued to weep in the same manner as I drew her into my arms, her own arms tightening around me in a manner I had not expected. She did not appear willing to let go of me until I gently asked her to do so, and though she had by that point calmed enough to agree to allow the poor doctor to continue the exam, her weeping continued throughout its course. She did not fight again, and never made any more noise, but no matter how tightly I squeezed her hand or how gently I stroked her hair or rubbed her arm, tears continued to trickle slowly down her cheeks, and she would not open her eyes.

It was the second time that I felt towards her a powerful sense of protectivness, concern, and tender affection more than in the general sense, the second occurrence where I felt her to be my own. Had I not been already committed to her by then, that dreadful experience and Sheena's allowing me to do what I could to help her endure it would certainly have anchored my decision.

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Though I did not wish to speak to Sheena directly about her reaction- it did not seem appropriate to pry, unless she herself felt the need to speak with me- it did emphasize to me the need to speak to her about sex in the general sense. Though Faith and I had had many discussions about the matter before, Sheena was a new addition to the equation I had not anticipated, and Faith needed to be included in the discussion as well.

It had been clear from the start that Sheena and Faith shared a relations that was very close indeed, and very much based upon physical affection. It was somewhat astounding for me to see this side of Faith, for I had no idea she had been capable of developing physically affectionate relationships or trust with others without there needing to be repeated efforts on the others' part, as had been the case with me, nor that she had ever formed a relationship that had any level of sexuality to it that was emotionally based as well. I had seen no signs of Faith knowing how to do so, let alone succeed at it, and truth be told, I did not want to discourage her from any loving relationship with another that was based on love and affection. It could possibly mean not only a healthier and happier model than she had seemed drawn towards up until now, but also that she was not engaging in short term relations with older, exploitative, possibly dangerous or diseased men who would deaden her to her emotions and possibly impregnate or harm her.

But the fact remained that Faith and Sheena were both very young, living under my roof, and not mature or educated enough that I was comfortable in any decisions they might make towards engaging in a sexual relationship with each other. And though neither had stated as such, I was certain that one was occurring or soon would be. I had witnessed enough the way they interacted with each other while sparring, the way they lay entangled together on the couch, the way they smiled at each other and how Sheena fingered Faith's hair, to know what was coming, and though both were on birth control and free of disease, and had also been given separate bedrooms, it was enough of a concern to merit a talk, and Sheena's breakdown at the gynecologist gave me the opening I needed to bring it to their attention.

I think they knew what I was to say, for they sat slightly apart from each other on the couch as I called them in. Not to mention the fact that they had emerged from Faith's bedroom slightly breathless, with their clothing rumpled and their hair mussed, more so than usual in Sheena's case. Although Sheena managed to make her expression reasonably blank, Faith I had known for too long not to recognize her guilty expression no matter how she attempted to conceal it. Yes, it was certainly time for Diana Dormer's school of sexual education.

"Did you girls enjoy engaging in sexual activity with each other?" I asked pleasantly, raising an eyebrow, and it was difficult not to smirk, I must admit, at the manner in which Faith blushed furiously, looking away, and Sheena's gawking at me as if utterly astonished by my insight. "Since the two of you clearly seem to believe that you are ready for it, despite your youth, then you certainly are ready for all of the knowledge that goes along with it."

They were already looking like they were expecting a firing squad as I continued, still suppressing a smile.

"The both of you will be adding to your study time daily 45 minutes of learning about sexually transmitted diseases, the workings of the reproductive system, forms of birth control, the details of birthing, and the mental, physical, and emotional aspects that sexual activity has on people. There will be tests that you will take until you each score 100%, and you will watch videos, label diagrams, and expect to answer any related question I may ask at any time. I find this to be reasonable expectations since you are so eager to engage in sex, that you would also be eager to learn as much about it as you can. And I will be delighted to provide you with your desired knowledge."

As I had anticipated, both girls' jaws dropped, and they seemed utterly unable to come up with a coherent response. I continued to smile at them as I concluded the summation.

"I am pleased that the both of you are free from sexually transmitted diseases, and it is true, of course, that you cannot impregnate each other, but I think we had better cover all our bases. Very well then, we will begin tomorrow."

I stood and exited the room then, leaving them alone, but I am sure they were hissing back and forth at each other the moment I was out of earshot. I could almost hear Sheena asking Faith if I was bluffing, and Faith grimly assuring her that I likely wasn't. Funny thing about those girls…however they engage in such practices, at the first indication that they will have to discuss them in intense clinical detail with me, they are scandalized. Almost sweet, really- and quite a useful tool at my disposal.

At least one thing came of that beyond the girls becoming well-informed and more than adequately equipped with the knowledge to make sexual decisions, which I certainly made sure of- they also for a time became much more conscious of what they did with each other, or at least more discreet. By continuing to inform them through their studies about healthy relationships, while never again mentioning their own, I trusted they would retain at least enough to begin to apply it to their own lives.

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the time since I had begun to educate Faith since her arrival, mostly in regards to practical matters directly related to her life, such as the history of slaying, Faith had come along well in her academics, and I decided as soon as Sheena was well enough to concentrate properly that she would learn along with her. Although she already knew about vampires and Faith's status as a Slayer, there was much she did not know, and it was necessary to train her in her understanding.

I was not surprised to learn that the child had not attended school in years, and as with Faith, she found it difficult at first to even wish to learn. But it was clear to me almost immediately that Sheena was a bright girl, and soon she was actually more interested in the material I gave her then was Faith, eager to learn, and more so, I expect, to please me.

For likewise reasons I trained Sheena in self-defense and in battling just as I had trained Faith, before Faith was called as Slayer and required more intensive training than Sheena could manage. I found Sheena to be tenacious and determined, with good endurance and upper body strength despite her low weight, which she explained was a result of her love of climbing. I had learned early on that the first place to look for her when she was troubled was the roof, though heavens knows how she so consistently mounted it. After some time I was not concerned for her safety and let her be when she took such refuge, for she never did fall and seemed to draw peace and comfort from the height in some manner. I did, however, leave a ladder to lean against the side, which made her ascent less worrisome.

Sheena was a beautiful girl, with bold features, high cheekbones, and intense blue eyes, but with her hair always loose and tangled, her face always free of makeup, and her insistence upon choosing clothing that was entirely sexless in style and fit, she seemed unaware of her looks- even, at times, I thought, exasperated or impatient with them or others' notice of them. It was and continues to be my goal to bring her to the point of being able to accept and appreciate her beauty- but even more so than that, I knew from the start that it was an important task of mine to form a trusting and physically affectionate relationship with her, as I had established with Faith.

It became clear to me soon after she came that Sheena was starved for physical touch, not only with Faith, but with myself as well. Whereas Faith, when she first came, had stiffened and even pulled away from even brief touch, and had to become accustomed to receiving it bit by bit from me, Sheena positioned herself into such situations that touch was invited.

She gave me the impression sometimes, upon observing her coertly, of a young child who wanted nothing more than to be pulled onto someone's lap and held against their heartbeat…a child who would never voice her desire or initiate its fulfillment. Instead she often embraced Faith from behind, poked or tickled her or pulled Faith into her lap, encircled her shoulders with her arm or even nuzzled her nose into Faith's neck, idly fingering her hair. I often turned to find her standing very close to me, not quite touching but near to doing so, as if she were hoping I would reach out and draw her in. And when I touched her in casual gestures, whether it be something as simple as a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the back, Sheena did not pull away, cringe, or stiffen. Instead, she leaned into it, and it seemed at times that she was holding her breath, as though waiting for it to continue.

And then, of course, there was the first time I ever gave her a massage.

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It was very early evening, and Sheena had been staying with us for a little over a week. She, Faith, and I were sitting before the fireplace as Faith and I began the last portion of Faith's wind-down routine she engages in each night before bedtime. It was a routine I had devised long ago, not only to relax her mentally and physically after long days of straining her mind and body, but also to foster a closer bond with her through the physical contact of my massaging her back and shoulders. As Sheena had been so unwell throughout the week, she had previously been in bed by that time of evening, and this was the first occasion which she had witnessed Faith's evening routine.

She watched Faith's yoga routine with interest from where she sat on the couch, long legs curled up to her chest, and asked no questions, even during the deep breathing exercises that preceded it. But when Faith sat cross-legged in front of me and I began to work my thumbs gently up the base of her spine, Sheena sat up straight, unable to contain herself.

"What are you doing?" she blurted, and the incredulous tone of her voice and the manner in which she stared at us made Faith stiffen, responding defensively to the implication that there was something odd about our actions.

"What's it look like? Can't you see?" she retorted, and I rested a hand on her newly tensed shoulders, stroking the tips of my fingers of both hands down her spine with light but firm pressure, intending to silently convey to her to relax as I explained to Sheena, giving her a smile and turning my head towards her.

"Sheena, this is part of Faith's evening routine in order to physically and mentally allow her to fully relax before she prepares for bed. As Slayer, she pushes her body very hard each day and experiences considerable stress, and this helps her to be able to have a good night's sleep without much chance of insomnia or nightmares."

I looked over at Sheena again as I concluded, observing her carefully, and thought that her face darkened slightly at the mention of nightmares, her shoulders drawing up. No doubt the child had survived more than enough horrors to cause bad dreams.

Sheena seemed to be thinking about my explanation with some skepticism, her brow furrowed, before she shrugged, voicing doubtfully, "Well, it looks kind of…"

She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't have to. The implication was obvious, and Faith took the bait, jerking away from my hands as she turned her entire upper body to face Sheena, her voice rising.

"It is NOT gay, Legs!"

"Sheesh, did I say anything? If that's the first thing on your mind when I didn't say anything, maybe that's your own personal problem you need to work through," Sheena raised an eyebrow again, her voice somehow both very innocent and very antagonistic at the same time, and Faith made a movement as though to jump up and face her directly, on her feet.

"Shut up, Legs, it's not like that and you know it!"

This was the first time I had seen the girls argue since Sheena had come to stay; I had been beginning to wonder when they would, and how explosive it might be when it finally did occur. Taking hold of Faith and easing her back down again, I kept my voice level as I addressed them both at once.

"Faith, sit down, please, and calm yourself. Also, please remember that I prefer that Sheena be called Sheena, at least in my presence."

I ran one hand with heavy pressure over her shoulder blades and then down her back, feeling Faith take a deep breath beneath my palm as I turned to address Sheena as well, giving her another smile. Despite her antagonistic comments, I noticed the way she was leaning forward slightly, as if longing to put herself in Faith's place.

"Sheena, as I have stated, this is an activity intended to relax Faith, and it is not in any way sexual or suggestive. If you would like to see for yourself, you may certainly do so after Faith is finished, in another ten minutes or so."

As I had anticipated, Sheena had not expected this offer, and seemed genuinely thrown by it. Her eyes widened, her mouth opening and then closing quickly, and when she answered her cheeks were slightly flushed as she shook her head, her voice colored in embarrassment.

"What? No, no, that's okay, Diana. Uh, that's…that's okay. I don't need that."

Yet even as I turned my attention back towards Faith, deliberately not looking Sheena in the eye so as not to embarrass her further, I could feel her still watching us even before I replied with as much nonchalance as I could muster.

"Are you sure, Sheena? You have been ill recently, and it would help with any lingering aches and pains. I would be careful not to cause you discomfort, should you ever wish to take me up on the offer."

Although I only saw part of Faith's profile form where I was positioned behind her, I could see that she was smirking, and it took effort not to smile myself. after all this time I was sure Faith realized my true reasons for my initiating her ritual, and recognized now my attempt to engage Sheena as well. And for a moment Sheena hesitated, seeming torn between maintaining her desired self-image and accepting what she must have known she truly wanted, before shaking her head quickly.

"No, that's all right. I'm fine."

But as I finished Faith's massage, then sent her upstairs to obstensibly prepare for bed but more likely to read her new comic, I had barely gotten to my feet before I felt a cold hand hesitantly take my arm. As I turned to face her, I saw that Sheena was standing close to me, biting her lip, before she lifted her chin in a clearly false show of confidence that her uncertain words belied.

"Uh…my back does kind of hurt."

I didn't' ask her outright if she wanted a massage, suspecting that direct acknowledgement of her unspoken request would break the moment. Instead I simply smiled, lightly touching her hair, and eased her to the floor with me, pushing her hair aside to drape over her shoulders as I began to work the muscles of a back that seemed considerably more narrow and fragile to my touch than Faith's. And as Sheena let out a shuddering sigh, then closed her eyes, slowly leaning back into my touch, I knew we were completing another step forward in her healing.

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It is this run of thought and memory, mingling together in my mind, that comes to me as I continue to observe the girl's workout, carefully watching each movement to spot any made incorrectly. I can still almost feel the length of Sheena's body leaning into me, the weight of her head against my shoulder, and I smile to myself, thinking of their differences. I could not remember more than a handful of times that Faith had initiated physical contact with me, although she willingly accepts my invitations, but in the short time Sheena has been here she is already becoming more bold about touching me, even hugging me, and finding nonverbal ways in which to communicate her own desire to be touched. I've no doubt that when she and Faith are finished in here she will embrace me or otherwise find a method in which to invite an embrace. It is really a sweet aspect of her, and not what I would have expected after Faith.

Not to say that Sheena is not a difficult child, and sometimes, when paired with Faith, an almost impossible one. Neither girl is an angel, for certain. Having two teenage girls means much bickering and rivalry, and though Sheena is older and taller than Faith, Faith is heavier and infinitely stronger, two factors Sheena routinely ignores in her efforts to best her. These attempts of hers to outdo Faith often end with her injuring herself or making herself ill, and when one of the girls is in an unpleasant mood, they spur each other on so that it is certain the other will be as well by the day's conclusion.

Teaching them both at once can be a challenge, for Faith finds it much more difficult to focus with another student present. For her part, Sheena sees no reason to remain safe at home each night as Faith patrols, and multiple times she has disobeyed me to follow her, putting them both an unneeded risk. I have walked into more explicit conversations and worse, physical acts, than I care to remember, and yet if I were to allow locks on doors, I am not sure I would be comfortable with what may happen then. Both girls are impulsive, reckless, and often utterly exasperating, and I think Sheena often influences Faith to be more so than usual.

And yet, Sheena is a good girl at heart. Thoughtful and affectionate, eager and eager to please, even sweet…and vulnerable, still she manages to carry that vulnerability that first made me love Faith too, a vulnerability undiminished by her strength. And when I watch Sheena and Faith resting their heads against each other on the couch or chasing each other around the house, when I see Sheena's eyes grow wide with childlike awe when given something new, when I see Faith smile at her with glowing eyes, or hear her subdued tone as Sheena leans into my side, describing only a single aspect of her life before that was nevertheless enough to incite my anger, I know I am not sorry she is here, nor will I ever be. She is mine. She is mine, and one does not back away from one's own, whatever trouble they may bring.

As they finish their training, I watch as Faith sits down, gulping from her bottle of water. Sheena too is sweating, almost panting, but it is me she comes to, her eyes seeking mine as she comes to stand near.

"Did I do all right?" she asks, and I smile down at her, slipping my arm around her shoulders, never mind her perspiration, and draw her against my side. As she leans into me, her head against my shoulder, I answer her with words conveying more meaning than related to her direct question of the time.

"Yes, Sheena. You have done very well."

End


End file.
